


Conspiracies

by RadioActivity



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 03:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1371799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadioActivity/pseuds/RadioActivity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil meets his longterm frenemy Steve Carlsburg at a bar for a drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conspiracies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lynx_Tiger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynx_Tiger/gifts).



Idle chatter floated through the room, the dim light carrying the sound directly to Steve Carlsburg’s ears. There was the unmistakable crack of pool balls, accompanied by the sound of a drunken guy trying to pick up a drunken girl. Steve managed to effortlessly tune all of the white noise of the bar out, flicking his eyes about the room, his heart pounding a little in excitement, despite himself. 

The bar was befittingly packed for a Friday evening, and Steve was glad he’d managed to snag his usual seat in the corner. He adjusted his trenchcoat, leaning back in his seat. It was 5:59pm, or so some would believe. The thought made him snort. He knew better than to believe that. He slipped a hand into his pocket, easing the deck of cards out of the pocket of his trenchcoat, flicking the box open, effortlessly. Glancing about the bar, he began to shuffle them out of boredom, using them to keep his hands moving while he waited for his guest. 

He bridged the cards, listening to the unmistakable swoosh of the cards in his fingers, before glancing up at the clock. He split the deck a few times, his mind running. His guest would be here soon. In fact, he would arrive in 5… 4… 3… 2… - 

“This Friday night traffic is terrible,” a rich, warm voice hit his ears, causing him to smile. He turned to face his guest, smiling wider as he did. 

“Hello, Cecil.” 

Cecil dropped his purple jacket on the back of the chair, before pulling it away from the bar, taking a seat at it. “I thought I was going to be late.” He leaned back in his chair, his purple vest shining in the dim light.

“Actually, you were right on time,” Steve replied, a small smile on his face. “Our drinks will be here in a minute or two.” 

Cecil eyed him suspiciously. “Steve, you look… terrible. Were you too busy picketing to bathe again?” 

“Haha.” Steve replied, but he subconsciously ran a hand through his hair, smoothing down the slightly oily black hair. “No. I was busy with something other than picketing, thank you. I’ve learned that doesn’t actually work...” 

“Yes, I imagine not…” Cecil replied, dryly, resting his elbows on the table. “How often has any of your insane, hair brained schemes actually worked? Or your theories made sense?” Steve shrugged, continuing to cut the deck, glancing at Cecil out of the corner of his eye. The light fell slanted across Cecil’s face, making it dark on the side Steve could see. Cecil went on. “Sorry I missed last week. Carlos and I finally moved in together and it was a mess trying to get unpacked and everything. We had two of everything almost and had to decide, you know, who had the better pots and pans, obviously I did… and who had the better furniture, obviously me again… but oh man, Carlos has the CUTEST little lab station in the spare room… He says it’s for science when he doesn’t want to leave home. Isn’t that just so cute? Isn’t he just adorable?” 

“Yup, he’s just literally the cutest thing since kittens were discovered.” Steve said, his tone mockingly pejorative. He smirked condescendingly, bridging the cards again. 

“Steve, you don’t need to be a sarcastic-”

The waitress arrived at their table, her short purple dress flashing in the light, and her brown hair shining. She set their drinks down in front of them. “Here we are. A disaronno for Cecil,” she flashed him a smile, her blue eyes warm, holding her tray in her hands. “And a beer for Steve…” she turned to face Steve, her eyes fixed on him, her warm smile in place. “Anything else?” 

“Good for now, thanks.” Steve waved her off, picking up his beer, barely glancing at her. 

“... I, um… I can’t get you anything else?” she asked, and Steve could hear the shy tone in her voice, which he ignored. 

“No, this is fine.” Steve replied. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the waitress nod, smile, and pause to fidget with her tray. She glanced at Steve like she wanted to say something before turning and walking away. 

“Steve, I think our waitress has a little crush on you,” Cecil glanced over his shoulder at her, picking up his disaronno, taking a sip of it. “She’s kind of cute, huh? If you like the blue-eyed brunette thing. You should try to get her number.”

“Forget her. It wouldn’t work out anyway. I’ve figured something out, Cecil. Something BIG.” Steve went on.

Cecil audibly groaned. “What’s that, Steve? That you’re a NUTCASE?” 

“No. Also, fuck you, Ceec. I’m trying to be serious here,” Steve replied, setting the cards on the table. “I’ve finally managed to find some conclusive evidence that the government was involved in that traffic light inciden-”

Cecil slammed his drink down on the table so hard that the salt and pepper shakers clattered, the ice clinking the sides as the disaronno sloshed in the glass. “STEVE. I told you, I will NOT listen to any more of your INSANE theories, okay? You are DELUSIONAL.” Steve went silent a moment, his shoulders slumping downward as Cecil went on. “Ugh, Steve… you’re literally…” Steve watched as Cecil pinched his brow, silently reflecting a moment. “We’ve been friends a long time. You know that. You’re literally one of my best friends. But you are absolutely insane. Back in high school, I thought it was kind of funny when you announced that you were convinced the ban on pens was an attempt to make us ignorant and more easily led by the government, I thought that was funny. I didn’t say anything. But Steve, your theories are getting more and more far fetched and I’m starting to wonder if you don’t need to see someone.” 

“It’s this town, Cecil, I feel like… I feel like this town isn’t…” Steve went silent, feeling quietly hopeless. _I wonder if he’ll ever understand me._ “I feel like that things are… different, out there in the world. That… I just feel like things are WRONG here. Things couldn’t have always been like this, Cecil! Things… I feel like things aren’t the same outside of Night Vale as they are here.”

“- Sorry, one second,” Steve and Cecil looked over at a gentleman moving towards them in the dim clublight. “I need to make this shot, but I’m afraid I’ll hit you with the pool stick.” 

Steve leaned back out of the way, and Cecil kept talking. “How would you know, Steve? You’ve never LEFT Night Vale. I went backpacking across Europe. What did you do? You stood in town square and shouted that the government was going to lead us to the slaughter like mindless sheep or something…” Cecil shook his head. 

“Cecil, look, all I know is that before you left, you were really into my insane theories,” Steve argued, wanting Cecil to understand him. “You talked about them for hours with me, and you agreed with everything. Then you disappeared, ‘went to Europe’ or whatever the government calls it, and you come back and you won’t even listen to me for two minutes.” 

“I HAD A HEAD CHANGE,” Cecil said, angrily. 

“Yeah the government gave you one.” Steve replied.

“Oh… forget it. You’re out of your mind.” 

The two of them were silent for a few moments, while Steve silently shuffled the cards. He set the deck on the table, pushing it toward Cecil, glancing up at his face, before back down. The dim light made it difficult to see the deck, but not impossible. “Pick a card.” 

“Oh god… Not this game.” 

“Just do it. Humor me, Ceec.” Steve glanced at him. “For old time’s sake.” Cecil hesitated but drew a card, sighing as he did. Steve thought a moment before he replied, “4 of Hearts.” 

Cecil set the card down, and Steve and he both looked at the card Cecil had chosen, and to neither of their surprise, it was the four of hearts. The two of them returned to their drinks, sipping them silently. He remembered his time back in school, the first time he’d met Cecil and... Steve suddenly smiled. “Cecil?” 

“Huh?”

“Do you remember the first time we played this game?” Steve asked. 

“... Of course I do. I was so excited. I didn’t realize it was a parlor trick, or luck or whatever. I thought you were really psychic.” 

“Aren’t I?”

“Look, I won’t deny that you’re really, really lucky. Like with your ability to guess cards and predict when people will do things,” Cecil said, wearily. “And, I mean, if you’d stop thinking all this crazy nonsense, you’d be really smart. You’re always coming up with these weird, random connections between things that make me wonder if they could be true… Like, sometimes your weird conspiracies make me doubt stuff…” he paused. “But… don’t you think your talents are better off somewhere else?” 

“I feel like this is what I’m supposed to be doing, Ceec.” Steve paused, scratching at and beginning to peel his label off his beer with long fingers. He could feel Cecil’s condescinding stare, and yet, he could tell that Cecil really wanted to understand him. “I see things in Night Vale that no one else sees. I notice the things that seem so normal to you guys… but aren’t really normal at all. I can’t just accept everything like a sheep, obediently following its shephard. I can’t be a GOOD Night Vale citizen, I can’t be that model citizen like you.” 

“But you COULD!” Cecil turned to face him, staring straight at him. “You know, you could be. Then I could stop being angry at you on the air for trying to write in and trying to get me to broadcast your insane theories, I don’t LIKE insulting you on the air but it just makes me so mad that you’re trying to trick me into reading that stuff. Urgh. We’ve been friends forever but-” 

“You two doing alright?” Steve could see the waitress coming up, and he made the mistake of turning to look at her. She was smiling happily from ear to ear, her brown ponytail swinging. She met his eyes before looking down at her empty tray, shyly, glancing back up to him.

“I could use another beer,” Steve muttered, turning back around. 

“Another one of these for me too, please,” Cecil nodded, smiling, as he tapped on his glass. “And I think my friend here would like your phone number, if that’s available.” 

The waitress giggled, and Steve slid down into his seat, embarrassed. _Damn it, Cecil… We’re not all as desperate and forward as you._ “I’ll see if I can get him one of those…” She blushed lightly and disappeared into the crowd. 

“Ugh, Cecil, why did you do that…” Steve muttered, pushing his half-empty beer between the palms of his hands, a blush crossing his face. “I come in here a lot. Now next time I’ll have to avoid Celine or go somewhere else because she’ll be wondering why I didn’t call.” 

“You will call her.” Cecil glared at him, before raising a curious eyebrow, leaning towards him. “... Celine? I didn’t realize she told us her name.” 

“... I come here a lot.” Steve muttered, looking down at his arms on the table. _Shit, great. Now he’s going to think-_ He could tell by the way Cecil leaned towards him that he had struggled to make the words out, but he managed to look smug as hell about what he had heard anyway.

Cecil smirked. “See? You do like her.” 

Steve couldn’t completely deny it any longer. “She is cute,”

“She is. Call her. But don’t talk your crazy theories to her. Ask her about herself. That’s the best way to have a conversation with someone.” Cecil instructed. “It’s how I got close to Carlos.” 

“You got close to Carlos by throwing yourself at him. Repeatedly. And then crying over him on air where the whole town could hear.” Steve grinned slightly. “I don’t think that’ll work for me. I’m not good at loud desperation.” 

“Really? Because I think you’re great at it,” Cecil retorted. After a moment, he snorted. “Do you remember last year when you stood in town square with that sign, like, ‘Do you have information about the lights above the Arby’s? Call Steve Carlsburg.’” He laughed, in spite of himself. 

A small smile curled onto Steve’s face. “Yeah, I guess I was a little crazy then.” 

“Hell, you’re still crazy.” Cecil replied. 

“A little bit.” Steve replied. “This town will do that to you.” 

“Mm.” Cecil agreed, looking down at his glass. 

“I’ve been re-educated more times than there are beers in this bar…” Steve paused, shaking his head. 

Cecil made a somber noise of agreement. “... It’s safe to say I’ve been re-educated quite a bit more than the average perfect Night Vale Citizen… so…” 

Celine returned, setting down their drinks in front of them. She pushed a napkin towards Steve and he read her number printed on the front. She tucked some brown hair behind her ear. “F-feel free to call or text anytime. I have texting.” 

“Oh?... Alright… maybe I’ll… do that.” Steve answered, looking away from her. Celine blushed, hesitating a moment. Steve watched her leave from the corner of his eye, picking up his beer again.

“See? It’s not so tough,”

“I won’t call.” 

“Text her then,” Cecil complained, and Steve could hear the audible whine of sheer frustration in his voice.

“I _might_ text her.” Steve emptied his first beer before opening the top on his second, thinking to himself. _It’s unlikely._ “Depends on how I feel tomorrow. I will be busy tomorrow. I’ve got a meeting with some people.”

“... You’re meeting with the conspiracy club, aren’t you?” Cecil narrowed his eyes, leaning back in his chair, his tone dripping with dishumor that Steve caught onto immediately. 

“Ceec, we have a NAME.” Steve scowled, tugging at the sleeves of his trenchcoat, unamused by Cecil’s childish nickname for his group. “We’re the NVTS. The Night Vale Truth Seekers, thank you very much.” _Jeez, we’re not in elementary school._

“Yeah, right… The only truth you guys should be seeking is that you’re all insane,” Cecil frowned, swirling his drink in his glass. Similarly to Steve, Cecil seemed to have a problem keeping his hands still. “So, you guys all do this conspiracy thing anonymously, huh?” 

“Yeah, we do a voice chat over Skype and we talk about what’s going on in Night Vale. Nice and anonymous that way. If one of us gets snatched, the rest of us are safe. It’s good because once, C.M got snatched and it was like, six months before we ever saw her again. I think she ‘went to Europe too’. We got her back though.” 

“Oh, forget you, Steve. I actually WENT to Fritz and Franchia,” He said, annoyed.

“Whatever you say, Ceec.” 

“Well, it’s good to have friends. Even if you all support each other in your delusions.” Cecil decided. Steve snorted, amused by how easily Cecil could become suddenly resolute in a belief, seemingly in a moment, no matter what anyone said to the contrary.

“You should sit in on a Skype call, Ceec. Just listen to them, just once.” 

“... I told you, I don’t want to hear these insane theories you - or your friends - come up with.” Cecil glowered at him, which Steve opted to ignore. “I like to consider myself an open minded individual but I’ve been hearing your theories since middle school.”

“You know what, I’m really suddenly very interested in mop-head. How is he doing anyway?” 

Cecil gasped, eyes wide. “I told you not to talk about Carlos like that.” 

Steve smirked, enjoying Cecil’s horror at the nickname. “You mock what I love, I mock what you love. Life’s a bitch,” Steve replied.

“CARLOS, beautiful, perfect, imperfect Carlos, who has the most beautiful, flawless hair in the entire WORLD, WHICH DOES NOT RESEMBLE A MOP THANK YOU VERY MUCH, is doing QUITE well. He’s very busy sciencing, and he told me that I might as well go ahead, he won’t be done until later anyway.” Cecil said, huffily, taking a long slow drink of his liquor. 

“What was that you said about him last time?” Steve murmured, ignoring as Cecil attempted to interject, “That he’s a sex scientist? No, what was that… OH. Didn’t you say he specialized in-” Cecil clapped a hand over Steve’s mouth to shut him up. Steve bit him, and Cecil jerked his hand away, putting a quick end to the silencing. 

“You bit me.” 

“You silenced me,” Steve answered, annoyed, licking his lips and teeth now that he had freedom to do so. To spite Cecil, he finished his statement anyway, “... fuckology.” 

“Ugh, Steve, can’t you just let that go it was a joke,” Cecil groaned. “I was joking. Carlos has a perfectly valid degree in science. REAL science.” 

“Science of fucking apparently.” 

“STEVE.” 

Steve chuckled, cruelly, picking up his beer, a smile curving at the corner of his mouth. “I’m just saying…” They sat silently, nursing their drinks and thinking to themselves. Steve found himself reflecting on Cecil’s recent attitude change, and how much the scientist had to do with that. _I just hope mop-head is serious about Cecil because murder’s illegal in Night Vale now._

Cecil spoke up a moment later. “Speaking of Carlos and his fuckology degree…” The two of them laughed together, exchanging a smile between friends. “I wonder if he’s done doing important science stuff.” Cecil looked down at his glass. 

“I dunno. You better go find out. I’ll pick up your tab.” Steve tilted his head. “You go fuck your scientist.” 

“Oh, I will,” Cecil got to his feet, pulling his jacket on. “After all, I’m /really into science these days/.” Steve chuckled, watching as Cecil left with a wink and a wave. Steve continued rolling the beer bottle between his hands, deep in thought. 

He let out a sigh, looking down at the bottle, looking out the corner of his eye as Celine came over, putting the glasses on her tray. “... Cecil might be a lost cause, Steve,” she admitted, shyly. “I don’t think you’ll get him to believe anytime soon.” 

Steve groaned. “Fucking shit, don’t I know it? I’d need a hammer to drive a point into that guy’s head…” Steve stared down at the table, noticing her putting the empty bottles onto her tray, glancing over at him.

“... You can still call me, Steve. I meant it.”

Steve slid out of his seat, pointedly avoiding looking at her. “I’ll think about it, C.M.” He tossed a few bills onto the counter, enough to cover the bill and a tip, slipping his hands into his black trenchcoat pockets. He hesitated a moment, looking over at her, studying her in the dim light, her brown hair shining and eyes focused on him. “...Stay safe.” He headed out of the bar himself, walking for home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, guys. :) Much appreciated. Link to my tumblr is [here](http://nerdcaptorari.tumblr.com/). Come talk to me if you want, I like people, and I like talking and I LOVE talking about Night Vale in particular, don't even hesitate to chat with me if you think you might be inclined. I wouldn't be opposed to taking prompts and suggestions either.


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